Three Dreaded Words
I wake up to the touch of my mother's hand
Rough from a lifetime of manual labour
Yet gentle as a breeze,
A breeze I did not invite.
I pull the covers over my head,
But my mother urges me, saying
Wake up, you need to go to school
Again, it's always three dreaded words,
Go to school, get a job, wash the dishes.
I'm too sick and tired of going to school
I groan and try to go back to sleep
But I feel the rough cracks in my mother’s hands on my back
I sit up sharply and storm off to change into my day clothes.
As I stand in front of the bathroom mirror to brush my teeth
I replay yesterday’s events over in my head
Math homework, check, english homework, check,
History, not check, science, still not a check,
Job interview, (shudder), total fail
Semi-professional clothing, unsteady speech
Irrelevant answers, bad, no scratch that, terrible eye contact,
Urgh, everything in general.
As I stare at myself in the mirror
I vow to make yesterday the last day of failure
And begin an era of “success.”
I close my eyes and chant,
Yesterday was the end, today is the beginning
Yesterday was the end, today is the beginning--
I feel the roughness of my mother’s hands on my back, again.
I open my eyes to the three dreaded words.